


got secrets I can't tell (i love the smell of gasoline)

by justprompts



Series: watching you run into the high noon sun [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cruciatus Curse (Harry Potter), F/M, Good Slytherins, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Trials, Wizengamot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27976455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justprompts/pseuds/justprompts
Summary: Theodore Nott cut off, as an unmistakable voice screamed, rather jeeringly, "Crucio!"Theo and Blaise Zabini exchanged a look, before heading towards it, Theo's wand in his hand, and Blaise's, out of sight in his sleeve.They, that is the more decent Slytherins of their year had long since decided that while blood did matter, Hogwarts was still home.And you can't waltz into somebody's home and torture the little ones, and act like unrefined, mannerless, cruel pigs which basically - was all that the Carrows did.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Ginny Weasley, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: watching you run into the high noon sun [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104587
Comments: 1
Kudos: 63





	got secrets I can't tell (i love the smell of gasoline)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to build on this, in the middle of this - I mean, this is just an extraordinarily long prompt, would love to hear your versions or if you continued!!!
> 
> Thanks for reading <3

"Draco isn't coming back, then, is he?"

Theodore Nott turned to Blaise Zabini, and his uncharacteristically hesitant question. Blaise was walking fast, but the one sideways glance he sent was enough for Theo to understand the implications.

"Probably not," he said, as they both turned around the bend on fifth floor. "He sent - a - letter. And a package, of sorts. It has healing potions and vials of all sorts, possibly Snape's. I'll show you when we're back in dorms. He thinks that the Carrows are - "

He cut off, as an unmistakable voice screamed, rather jeeringly, "Crucio!"

They exchanged a look, before heading towards it, Theo's wand in his hand, and Blaise's, out of sight in his sleeve. They, that is the more decent Slytherins of their year had long since decided that while blood did matter, Hogwarts was still home.

And you can't waltz into somebody's home and torture the little ones, and act like unrefined, mannerless, cruel pigs which basically - was all that the Carrows did.

They reached the empty Defense classroom, where Alecto Carrow stood, wand pointed towards the ground, as Ginny Weasley gasped, and panted, her face screwed up in pain and Theo stepped on Blaise's foot pointedly, as he saw a glint of fury appear in Zabini's eyes.

"What's going on here?" Theo asked, his voice naturally sinking deeper, and rougher, his face contorting in cold contempt and disgust, his back straightening - thank Merlin he was taller than Alecto - forcing himself to breathe calmly, becoming the perfect reflection of everything his father wanted him to be.

Carrow spun around, glaring, and then subsiding in a frankly pathetic way when she saw who it was. Blaise kept his wand trained lower, staring at Carrow, but didn't say anything - he usually let Theo take the lead with this.

"Nothing you need to worry about, Nott," she said, hastily. "Just a little bit of Defense Lesson I'm teaching."

Blaise's eyes flashed and Theo scoffed scornfully, 

"Well, let me have at it," he said, looking at Ginny, who was staring at them both with wide, wild eyes - and Theo couldn't help but be impressed at the amount of defiance in them, mixed with fear. He jerked his neck, gesturing at Blaise, "We've had a bad day - this would - cheer us right up."

"Oh, no need to worry yourself over this," she said. "She's just a filthy - "

" - blood traitor," Theo finished for her.

"Leave us alone, Professor," Blaise said mockingly, forcefully smirking at Theo and Ginny. 

"Of course," Carrow said, cowering as they both glared at her, stowing away her wand reluctantly and backing down the corridor.

Theo waited till Carrow had turned the corner, before putting away his wand and saying, "Get the fuck outta here, Weasley."

To her credit, she hadn't tried to run away during the distraction, and she stood her ground as she said, her voice a little hoarse, "What was all that?"

"The Carrows are shit scared of Theo's father," Blaise said, his hand twitching like he wanted to support Weasley with standing up. "Luckily for you, he isn't anything like his him."

Theo might have been a little pleased inside, for that indirect praise - but Weasley narrowed her eyes at them suspiciously.

"But why did you help me?" she asked, and there was a specific stress on that 'me' which made Blaise flush, which again, obviously, Ginny caught immediately and to Theo's absolute delight, instead of getting flustered, grabbed Blaise's wrist and pushed herself off the ground. 

Blaise, idiot that he is, flushed deeper and a flash of realisation came in Weasley's eyes, before she smirked.

"I owe you one," she said, hobbling her way out at quite a speed for someone who had just been tortured. "Thanks, Nott."

She stopped at the door, and turning back, and grinning, like the total bratty minx that she was, said cheerily, and quite saucily, "And you too, Blaise. Thank you!"

_

Ginny and Blaise are kissing each other like their lives depend on it, when the fireplace right at their feet blazes green - and Draco Malfoy stumbles out, his face and chest cut up, trembling, coughing - hacking and shaking and generally looking like he's going to die in five minutes. 

Ginny pauses with wide eyes - what now? - Malfoy has clearly seen them, her and Blaise, his eyes widening comically and his mouth falling open, before he falls himself, bleeding all over the carpet.

Blaise hesitates for a second, glancing at her in clear anguish, before running to him, and hoisting him up and dragging him to the couch. Ginny doesn't know what that means - maybe they're going to heal him and then obliviate him - because Blaise will not be safe if he's attached to Ginny in the current political situation.

And Ginny is scared. For him. So scared, that the fact that she cares also scares her.

Blaise curses under his breath, words that would make pirates blush, and Ginny can't help but think how sexy they sound in that posh, pureblood Italian accent of his.

" - help," Malfoy croaks hoarsely, like there's anything else that can possibly be done in this situation. Blaise scoffs, probably thinking exactly that.

Ginny knows a few spells of her own. She also knows the symptoms of the Cruciatus curse, and Malfoy's are shit bad.

Like, worse than any she's ever seen. She wonders what happened to him, although foul git he is, nobody deserves that.

An excruciating half hour later, Blaise has run out of new curses, Malfoy isn't bleeding anymore, Ginny's vanished any evidence that he was ever injured - and he's sleeping on the couch. Peacefully, but he twitches once in a while.

Three hours later, Blaise starts levitating him to his own bed, in the Slytherin Rooms. 

He screams halfway there. 

His scream freaks Ginny more than she cares to admit, its a heart wrenching sound of pure fear and pain. And he wakes up, right there, when they are right outside the stairs leading to the dormitory.

He looks at them, bewildered for a second, like he doesn't remember what happened - reaches into his pocket for his wand, comes up empty handed, and then, sighs wearily and sits up.

"What's the time?" he asks, voice dry, looking at Blaise and Blaise obliges with a Tempus.

"What happened to you, Malfoy?" Ginny asks, when she really can't wonder any longer.

He looks at her, and Ginny almost knows he's going to sneer and tell her its none of her business but then, he drops the anger in his eyes and says, "Potter."

Blaise's eyebrows shoot upwards, and Ginny waits for an explanation because she knows, just knows that Harry could never do something like that to him.

Obviously.

"Potter," Draco says, again, a look of complete and utter exasperation on his face. "Granger. Weasley - the other one," he explains, unnecessarily, they all know who he is talking about. "They were caught. Brought to the Manor."

Ginny's heart stops for a moment, terror exploding in her stomach, before Malfoy sighs and says, "They escaped."

Ginny would have totally laughed triumphantly at that, how typical of them to get into these type of situations, only to escape by a hair's breadth. But then, she realises that Malfoy's been punished because they escaped. And she feels a strange sort of pity for him.

"Why did you get in trouble?" Blaise asks, and its a fair question.

Draco looks at him for a moment, before turning to Ginny and staring into her eyes, says, "I didn't sell them out when they were brought. And my psychopathic, sadistic aunt is also a snitch."

Blaise inhales sharply as Draco clearly, and firmly admits that he helped Harry. Harry, of all people.

"Are - are they alright?" Ginny asks, hesitantly.

"Potter and Weasley should be," Draco replies, clenching and unclenching his fists and jaw. "Granger - is - I don't know. She's - she's stronger than she looks."

Blaise stares at Draco for a few seconds, and Ginny feels a surge of pride for Hermione. She's going to be alright. She just is, Ginny knows it.

They don't speak after that. But Ginny, without any real reason, inexplicably, starts trusting Draco Malfoy.

___

Things escalate fast after that. Malfoy's family may have fallen from grace - but Voldemort still lives in their home, and as such, the Carrows never say anything to him. Snape narrows his eyes whenever Draco comes near him, but never speaks to him, atleast not that Ginny could see.

He's keeping his head down.

How dare he?

She approaches him the third day of his return. 

To her surprise, he agrees, reluctantly and with several conditions - but he does.

___

They have a deal now, Longbottom and Draco. Neville's told the junior years, atleast all those who can be trusted, that Draco isn't bad.

Well, he isn't nice - but he definitely doesn't get a sick pleasure out of torturing eleven year olds.

He takes up the most detentions - and the students come back, seemingly obedient - almost to the point where the Carrows start deferring to him, he's lauded by them, and Bellatrix laughs herself silly when she hears that itty bitty Draco has been having his little fun.

"Scream," he whispers, as he holds the twelve year old Hufflepuff against the wall - whose eyes lose some of the fear and widen with realisation, and confusion.

"Crucio!" Draco yells, his wand pointed firmly - even when the red light emerges - and the kid screams shrilly, face contorted as he yells, for a second Draco is scared that its actually painful - but he is an accomplished legilimens and the kid's thoughts are definitely more along the lines of - what the fuck, and why is a death eater doing that, and thank you, thank you, thank you - so he concentrates on happy thoughts towards the kid and curses again.

"Crucio!" and again, and again and again.

When they're done, atleast a dozen curses later, he pushes him against the wall again, and snarls, which the Carrows approve of with a cackle, "Fucking behave now."

The boy nods meekly - and his face is still screwed up in fake pain, but his eyes sing gratefully. And Draco is glad. 

__

The Carrows should never have been allowed a trial. They were, however, still - in front of a full Wizengamot - and they put all the blame on Draco. He has, of course, expected this - and he hopes that everybody who he helped would not scorn him now. But his hands still tremble and his chin still dips as he sees the sheer multitude of children gathered as witness, by the Carrows' court lawyer. Who, frankly, like all the other members of the Wizengamot looks disgusted and contemptuous as he stares Draco down.

He tries to focus on the conversation he had with Ginerva and Blaise before this - he quite likes this particular Weasley, he's realised, she's a spitfire and she likes making fun of Ron Weasley, and she's also dating his best mate, "You're not going to Azkaban, Draco. There's loads in your favour, and barely anything against that is incriminating."

They're both steadily ignoring Draco's disastrous Sixth Year, Blaise dismissing it almost as Youthful Folly. He wonders if he will even be given a chance - his father hadn't really been given one, though that was almost deserved - he's gotten lifetime in Azkaban, while his mother, with new evidence from Potter himself (she apparently saved his life, Mother, what) has gotten off with three years house arrest. Which was barely anything, but she doesn't have the mark that he does.

"What if - what if," his voice breaks and he hates it, the shackles around his wrists seem to get tighter. "What if I don't even get a chance?"

"Draco," Ginny says, in a no nonsense voice that instantly calms him down a little. "You will get a chance. Harry's there, we're there - and everybody hates the Carrows anyway. And," she adds as he opens his mouth to ask about the possibility. "And - if they actually don't give you a chance, and they chuck you in Azkaban, then, you're only going to be there for a day or two - because I'll come and blow that place up and get you out, alright?"

Draco knows she actually means it. She does. Its all over her face. He doesn't know why. But he's pathetically grateful. 

Someone has faith in him. She doesn't know how much it means. 

And she's probably right about Potter. Pansy, who had, like an idiot, offered Potter upto the Dark Lord had been left scot free on the account that Potter himself said "anybody in her place would have done the same, we have personal feuds, which I can't discuss" and Draco had honestly been surprised by the lie - they had no personal issues, just that they naturally hate each other.

"Forty three students have been named by Alecto and Amycus Carrow," the lawyer begins, his tone angry and dripping with hatred for Draco. "Forty three students who were - by means of the Cruciatus Curse - tortured by Draco Malfoy, which has also been confirmed by real time memories."

They have a new set up, the Wizengamot, a virtual pensieve - where memories can be watched by the whole court, and so, Draco watches, almost green and nauseous by the time they're all finished - as he raises his wand on the screen again and again, and casts the same bloody thing and they all scream and twist - the forty three students are squirming in their place, which the court assumes is fear and trauma and discomfort, but Draco feels a strand of hope as they start raising their hands, and mouthing "we're sorry's" at him.

The hands are ignored, of course.

The Carrows have surprisingly sharp memories - all the details are vivid and scary - and Draco is almost convinced of his own guilt when the little twelve year half blood Slytherin cries on the screen, brillant actress by the way.

"There's hardly any need for further questioning," he says, looking sympathetically at the kids, like he understands shit. "No need for children to face, to remember even more - Mind healers will be on their job of course, never fear. Draco Malfoy, in my most verified opinion," he gestures wildly at the screen, "Deserves Lifetime in Azkaban or worse."

"Draco didn't do that to us!" somebody screams from the group. Its the Gryffindor second year. "He told us to scream - and we were only pretending - Draco never hurt us!"

Well, Draco has to look up once, and thank Godric Gryffindor for recklessness and bravery - even as the whole hall breaks into disbelieving whispers.

"Yeah," another kid says, in a lower volume than the Gryffindor. He's a third year Ravenclaw. "Draco didn't mean any of the curses - so they never worked, because a Cruciatus Curse doesn't work without intent, we were all screaming for our own safety. And his, of course."

Ginny and Potter are standing up, Astoria Greengrass, his official lawyer, striding up with vials of Veritaserum and memories.

"Today, we're going to tell you a little story," Potter begins, and Draco wonders what Granger's cooked up for him. They had obviously let Potter open because he was the least likely to be scoffed at.

"And I want you all to imagine this," he continues, after briefly glancing at Draco, with a complicated expression.

"Imagine. Imagine that you're a fifth year student, a pureblood, raised to believe that blood matters, that blood matters above all. Before you have any time to form an actual opinion, to understand what pureblood fanaticism really means, you're thrown into a war - head-on, and you're already told where your whole family stands, and what you're expected to do."

He looks around, and some people are nodding, some looking sceptical.

"And then, your father - who is a high ranking Death Eater, an inner circle member, a horrible person by nature, but shockingly, a good father - who you respect - is given a mission. And he fails, and is sent to Azkaban."

Potter's tone is dipping lower and quieter, and Draco can almost feel it happening, the feeling of loss, the fall from grace, the moment he felt the first stab of doubt. 

"And suddenly, one night, you are woken up from sleep by your own aunt," he continues and Draco reminds himself to breathe.

"Who tells you that the Dark Lord is waiting for you downstairs. You, obviously cannot refuse. Refusing would be suicide. You walk downstairs and your mother is being held under wandpoint, and the Dark Lord himself, gives you a mission. The moment you hear it, you know its impossible, its just a game that you're going to lose for his entertainment - but you hear your mother screaming, and there really isn't a choice, is there? You accept, confirm you can do it, you will find a way, anyhow - you would do anything to keep your mother from feeling pain like that again. You take his mark, while your mother cries, not for her sake, but yours. Is there really any way out? Is there anyone who can give you help?"

The court is waiting with bated breath, Draco too, because this is it. Exactly it, he couldn't ever say no, there was no way out. None that would assure his mother's safety.

"I was always told," Potter continues. "That I made all the right choices. And that Draco made all the wrong ones. But that's not true at all. I was always given a choice between between doing right and doing wrong. I was never given a choice between saving my family and saving the world. Because, believe me, I would have picked the same as Draco."

Draco inhales sharply, the weight in his chest suddenly light - Potter would have done the same. The same. As him.

It fires up after that, all the kids are yelling at once, they're made to stand in a queue with their own versions of the memories, and Veritaserum - and Ginny and Blaise describe everything, the day he came from the fireplace, the deal, how he tried his best this last year.

And then, Potter and Granger's final testimony, "He saved our lives, in the Malfoy Manor - he lied for us, didn't give us up," - its all too much, everybody has switched from passing him glares to pitying faces.

And finally, finally, his shackles are being removed - three years house arrest, one year probation, in Hogwarts - and he's being led out, dazedly - where the kids smile and wave shyly at him, some even thanking him, to which he doesn't reply - and Potter is holding out his Hawthorn wand, pressing it into his fist - Blaise is congratulating him - Ginny almost leaps on him with a huge hug and a, "Can't believe I don't have to blow up Azkaban!" - Kingsley nods at him once before heading out and they're all gone.

He's really free. He thanks Astoria, she's the one who gathered everything, all those memories and he thanks Granger and Potter - and then, he's being apparated home by Blaise, where his Mother is sitting, staring at nothing, until she sees him.

He'll never forget the way her face lights up. She hugs him tighter than she ever has, and she talks about Renovations and Redecorating and asks him when would she get grandchildren and they have tea together, like before.

His wand, a Unicorn Hair wand, meant for pure light magic and spells, has never felt better.

__


End file.
